Page 16 of Already Callin’ You Mine

5

PRESLEY

“Are you thinking platform-specific content? Or something that’s a little more universal?”

Bronwyn Ainsworth-Keller, Hayes’s director of marketing—and my new boss—purses her lips to the side as she thinks. Sitting back in her chair, she blinks hard, staring back at me in one of the leather guest chairs across from her, her thought process written all over her face. A little younger than I am, with honey-colored hair and sparkling eyes, Bronwyn is also a little bit of an outsider here in Hickory Hills.

“Both? Is that an acceptable answer?” she replies, her northern accent shining through. Originally from Boston, having spent the last few years in the South has not diluted her accent, making her stand out in a crowd. “I realize that some platforms make it easier than others to overlap, and so there’s probably some stuff that we will have restrictions on, or have to make specially for that use, but I would love if we have content that can be used everywhere. Like, some grab-and-go content. Because I know the folks around here, and if we don’t make it easy, they won’t do it.”

I chuckle, understanding exactly what she means. “That’s absolutely doable. And that’s not a unique request. There are lots of people who have no interest in social media, so as much as possible, I apply the KISS method—Keep It Super Simple.”

“That’s a much nicer way of saying it than I was taught.”

“I mean, same,” I shrug knowingly. “But I’ve found that since my little guy has started to talk, I need to watch what I say. He likes to repeat things, and always seems to catch the words that don’t need repeating. Like stupid.”

“Oh, goodness.” Bronwyn laughs, covering her mouth like she thinks it’s inappropriate to be amused by such a thing.

“My dad introduced Otis to Peanuts last year, and what does he pick up from that? Blockhead. He walked around for three days after watching It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown just repeating “blockhead” over and over and over again. That was only replaced after I dropped something and uttered crap under my breath. I didn’t even think I said it that loud, but his little ears caught it, and we spent about a week with that one on repeat. That’s when I realized that I needed to start watching my words.”

“How old is he?”

“Three.”

“That’s a busy age,” she comments.

For a second I think there’s more coming—worry about how I’ll get my work done, or if he’s going to be a distraction. But it doesn’t come. Bronwyn offers nothing more than a simple smile with her observation, making me feel right at home.

“It is, but it’s been a fun adventure. I’m looking forward to being closer to my parents too, since my dad is pretty much Otis’s favorite person on the planet.”

Although he seemed rather enthralled with Jace this weekend…

“Awww.” Her smile spreads across her face, hand moving to her tummy. “I can’t wait.”

Her comment takes me by surprise. Is she saying what I think she’s saying?

“Are you…”

“Oh, no!” she quickly corrects me. “Someday though. But don’t tell my husband I said that, because he’s ready, like, yesterday.”

We both giggle, enjoying the shared moment. I’ve met her husband, Noel Keller, who runs the local landscaping company with his twin, Nash, husband to Willa Hayes, only once, but I know she’s not exaggerating. He spent fifteen minutes playing with Otis when he came over to help my father with a tree in their backyard. The man absolutely has baby fever.

“Back to work, though—I did mock up these quickly,” I say, bringing our focus back where it’s supposed to be. “Since you specially mentioned The Booby Trap as an area of focus, I took the big mouth design from their stickers and elaborated a bit.”

Flipping through my tablet, I show Bronwyn the slides I made to post online. She gasps, her excitement palpable.

“Yes! This is perfect. We have a bunch of footage from Reel Madness as well. Do you think we could put together a video?”

What kind of question is that?

“Absolutely.” I nod. “And that benefited Hayes Cares, right? So, we could link it into⁠—”

“Hey, Bronwyn, Owen and I had this idea…”

Jace barges into Bronwyn’s office, not bothering to knock, much less stop his train of thought to see if she—or anyone else in her office—might be in the middle of something.

That is, until he sees me sitting here. That stops him dead in his tracks.

Good.